


Faux Pas

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Polyamory, Trans Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12724683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: Amélie's shoulders shook with silent laughter as Gérard passed a mortified hand over his face. "It's not... She doesn't know, Ame," he whined."That you have the most obvious crush on her," Amélie inquired dryly, "or that I'm alright with it?"(Angela isn't really sure how she wound up here in the first place.)





	Faux Pas

The first time Amélie met her husband's crush, the woman had actually been asleep.

He'd messaged her earlier in the day to cheerfully inform her of a successful mission completed—that he was back on the base now and would love for her to meet him at headquarters so they could go out together to celebrate.

She found it a little odd upon arrival that Gérard didn't come down to the entryway to greet her, rather messaging her the directions to the debriefing room, where he claimed to still be. This wouldn't have been the odd part—many of his debriefings had lasted much longer than expected before. The odd part was that the door was hanging open.

Stranger still was that Gérard was the only one left in the room, waving sheepishly up at her, with a woman evidently dead-asleep resting on his shoulder.

Amélie nearly laughed. His sense of chivalry would get the better of him one of these days.

"Sorry." He had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Ah,  _ mon loup, _ and here I thought if you were to have an affair it would be with someone I knew." Amélie pretended to swoon, laying the back of her hand to her forehead, and Gérard's blush deepened. She quirked a brow, letting her hand fall back to her side as she leaned back against the conference table. "...My, my. Is this the one you've been waxing poetic about for months?"

"I have  _ not _ been—!" The woman—Angela Ziegler, she surmised—stirred just long enough to make Gérard freeze before she fell back into her admittedly impressively deep sleep. Amélie's shoulders shook with silent laughter as he passed a mortified hand over his face. "It's not... She doesn't  _ know, _ Ame," he whined.

"That you have the most obvious crush on her," Amélie inquired dryly, "or that I'm alright with it?" He ducked his head. "Ah, either."

"It hasn't come up," he huffed, petulant, blush only just receding. "I don't... often get to speak to her in non-professional environments."

"What, the head of medical research? You don't say." She was pretty sure title had been one of the many things he'd mentioned while sighing over her at home. Amélie had shoved at his shoulder more than once, ordering him to just ask her out already, but Gérard insisted that it just wasn't the right  _ time _ yet. "You can't ask her between missions?"

He gestured pointedly at Angela. Amélie raised a brow and looked back at her again. That she was exhausted to the bone was obvious, with how soundly she was sleeping and how dark the circles under her eyes were. It couldn't have been just the mission, either; Gérard looked no more tired than usual, despite that they were both still covered in dust from the field, and quite a bit of blood in the doctor's case. Nonetheless, with her pale blonde hair tousled from the battlefield framing her soft, fair face, her lips just barely parted, her arms folded loosely over her chest. Amélie decided she could see the appeal, at least as far as looks went. Under the layer of grime that covered both Angela and her husband, she could be rather cute.

"She does this often?" Amélie asked, dragging her gaze back to Gérard.

"Not at all!" He looked entirely too pleased with himself. Amélie couldn't fathom why. "I think this is the first time she's fallen asleep during a debriefing since she started here!" Amélie raised a brow, prompting another flush out of him. "...Ame, she doesn't  _ sleep, _ " he insisted, pointing at her. "She's up at all hours all the time, she's always in her office, there's a constant rumor in the new recruits that she  _ literally never sleeps— _ "

"Ah," Amélie said, mischief glittering in her amber gaze, "so of course she chooses  _ you _ to actually fall asleep on."

Gérard pretended to puff up as much as he could without jostling the exhausted medic. "I  _ have _ been told that I'm very comfortable to sleep on." He winked at her. Amélie rolled her eyes.

"Not that she would actually know," she drawled. His face fell.

"I'm  _ working _ on it."

"Are you now."

His blush deepened. "Don't," he pleaded, Amélie's grin going wicked. "Don't do this to me."

" _ Mon loup, _ I have no idea what you mean," she said airily.

" _ Chérie— _ "

Amélie cleared her throat just loud enough that Angela started awake, promptly sitting up straight and murmuring apologies in an adorably sleep-roughened voice. Gérard pouted up at Amélie as Angela passed an exhausted hand over her face, rubbing at an eye. Then Angela seemed to finally take note that Amélie was standing there, giving a double-take and bolting to her feet as a scarlet blush crept into her cheeks from beneath the black under-armor that guarded her throat and jaw. She swatted lightly at Gérard, muttering aside to him that he should've woken her up.

"My apologies," she addressed Amélie directly, brushing her bangs out of her flushed face, not quite meeting Amélie's gaze. "It was... quite a trying mission. I didn't realize—"

"You work too hard,  _ mon petit oiseau, _ " Gérard interrupted, standing and lightly tapping the small of her back. "You need to rest, too." Amélie didn't miss the way Angela jolted slightly at his touch.

Angela, for her part, waved off his concern easily, blush finally starting to recede. "I will rest as I need to," she insisted. She ignored Gérard's skeptical look to proffer a hand to Amélie, smiling warmly. "Doctor Angela Ziegler. You must be Amélie; Gérard's mentioned you quite a bit."

Amélie just barely stamped back her smirk at the pleading look Gérard gave her behind Angela's back. "Has he now? Not nearly as often as he does yourself, I can assure you." She bypassed the extended hand to press a fleeting kiss to each cheek, renewing the mortified blush in Angela's face in an instant.

It took her a moment to get her bearings back enough to reply with a wary laugh, "Oh, I don't think I like the sound of that. Hopefully only good things."

"Oh, nothing but," Amélie assured her. She noticed with a little smirk that her lip gloss left a visible and rather  _ telling _ mark on Angela's cheek. On instinct, she switched to French, teasing Gérard over Angela's shoulder, " _ You've mentioned her looks before, but you must've been downplaying it; she really is stunning. I can see the attraction. _ "

She nearly missed the way Angela's soft blue eyes went wide, a hand flying up to cover her mouth, with the way that Gérard paled, his ears an impressive shade of red.

After scarcely a beat, Gérard finally responded in kind, his voice weak with mortified humor, and Amélie felt her face heat in a rare blush of her own: " _ She's Swiss, darling. She does speak French, herself. _ "

**Author's Note:**

> kinda up in the air based on reactions/my own inspiration whether or not this will continue lmfao but it was fun to write
> 
> more healthy happy silly poly shenanigans pl0x


End file.
